


woof woof rip my heart

by HeddersTheOwl



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Activist Sam Wilson, Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Steve Rogers, Dogs, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:19:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4812974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeddersTheOwl/pseuds/HeddersTheOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve takes Clint's dog for a walk, and meets a certain bird-themed dog walker who sets his heart a-flutter</p>
            </blockquote>





	woof woof rip my heart

**Author's Note:**

> I...I don't know. I was walking my dog and this happened. RIP my heart.

Steve jingled the lead in his hand a few times by the door, and listened to the thumps from the other room that meant Lucky was on his way. He smiled at the golden head poking around the corner, reaching down to pet Lucky’s head and clip on his lead.

“You ready to go out Lucky?” Steve asked, rubbing the side of the dog’s head with his palm.

Lucky leaned into him and licked his palm, then turned his head pointedly to the door.

“That’s right, off we go.” Steve pushed open the door to his house and let Lucky out first, grabbing his Frisbee and closing the door gently behind them because Bucky worked the night shift at the Pizza Palace and as much as Steve liked to joke about letting him get his beauty sleep, he didn’t want to come back to an annoyed roommate. Plus Natasha had stayed over from their movie night and she was scary when she was woken up early.

It was a beautiful morning, the kind of blue sky, bright sun, fluffy cloud day that little kids’ drawings could only dream about. Steve would definitely be outside in this weather even without Clint’s dog to look after while he was in hospital for falling of a roof. The number of high places Clint has fallen from, Steve would be surprised if he had a single unbroken bone in his body.

There were a few other dog walkers out, and Steve nodded to a few of them if they made eye contact. He tugged Lucky away from an apparently very interesting smell to the dog park, where he let him off the lead, holding up a Frisbee to stop him wandering too far. Lucky lazily wagged his tail and jumped a few times to show his readiness. 

“Let’s see if you can catch it before it hits the ground buddy,” Steve said, smile growing at the sight of Lucky’s head following the movement of the Frisbee, “I won’t throw it so hard this time, I promise.”

When they played yesterday, Steve had underestimated Lucky’s depth perception problems from his missing eye and it had hit him in the head with a ball when he moved the wrong way. Steve had apologised profusely with treats and belly rubs, and Lucky seemed fine, but he still felt rather guilty about the whole ordeal. Hopefully a Frisbee would give a softer landing if the same thing happened.

“Ready? Go!” Steve flicked his wrist and the Frisbee went flying- clearing Lucky’s head by a full inch, thankfully. The dog barked and set off, not as fast as he did when Clint first got him five years ago but still a fair pace. He’d almost reached the now grounded Frisbee when a brown blur raced in from leftfield and snatched it, bounding back past Lucky and making a beeline for Steve. 

The small cocker spaniel sat in front of Steve and wagged its tail, looking up at him with its large black eyes hopefully. It was light brown all over, apart from its long hairy ears, which were ginger to the point of redness. Steve reached out his Frisbee in the dog’s mouth, but it growled and turned its head away.

“You know, I can’t throw this if you don’t give it back, little dog,” Steve said, laughter pushing through his voice. He glanced up to see Lucky ambling back, unperturbed by the new dog taking part, then looked back to the dog in front of him. 

“Come on, drop it, uh, leave it, what command have you been taught? Gimmie.” Steve tried pointing at the floor, but the dog just whined around the red white and blue disk in its mouth.

“Redwing!” A voice said, making Steve look up and the dog run over. The man was breathing a little hard and had his hands on his knees. He was black, wearing a grey sweatshirt, running shorts, and a friendly smile as he tugged the Frisbee out of the dog’s mouth and handed it to Steve.

“Sorry about that,” the man said, his eyes bright, “he gets really excited at the park.”

“I can see that,” Steve replied with a small smile of his own, “he also has some trouble returning things when he gets his teeth into them.”  
The man sighed and frowned at Redwing. 

“You been making me look bad at the park again, Reddy?” He scolded, then shook his head when the dog barked in response. “I swear he’s good as gold at home.”

Steve chuckled, and the man looked up at him again, smile getting bigger.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around, you new to the neighbourhood?” The man asked, holding out the hand that wasn’t holding a dog leash. “Sam Wilson, Neighbourhood Watch and full-time activist.”

Steve took it and shook. Sam had a strong handshake, his hand dry, warm and soft. 

“Steve Rodgers, recent art graduate looking for a job. I do live around here actually, but this isn’t my dog so I don’t normally come around here.”

“Not your dog huh?” Sam raised his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips. “I’m not going to have to do a citizen’s arrest for dog stealing am I? Cause it’s far too nice a day to have to fill in any paperwork.”

Steve huffed a laugh. 

“No, I’m just looking after him for a friend. Promise.” Steve teased, throwing in an exaggerated wink that had Sam raising his eyebrows.

“Oh I see, well with a solid testimony like that-” Sam started, but was cut off by Redwing barking and jumping against Steve to try and take the Frisbee still in his hand.

“I think he’s looking for some attention, is it okay if I throw it?” Steve asked, looking fondly down at the flapping ears as Redwing bounced.

“If you don’t mind him harassing you all morning about it then go ahead and knock yourself out. I swear he never calms down for more than a minute,” Sam replied, shaking his head at the yapping dog, “shut up Redwing!”

Redwing ducked his head, chastened, until Steve raised the Frisbee and he honed in on it, leaning back ready for the chase. Lucky, having returned and gone off to sniff around the bin, hurried back over and adopted the same pose.

“Well,” Steve said, curling the Frisbee back for a long throw “let’s see if we can tire her out.” 

He let it fly and was pleased to see it on a trajectory to almost the boundary of the park. Redwing and Lucky tore off after it, Redwing getting an obvious lead. Steve turned back to Sam, who’s mouth was hanging open.

“What?” Steve said, folding his arms self-consciously.

“Are you sure you’re an art student and not a professional Frisbee player or something?” Sam said incredulously, smile curling around his words like a warm hug.

Steve blushed.

“I was on the Ultimate Frisbee team in college,” he admitted, looking away to watch Lucky intercept Redwing on his way back and start a tugging match over the toy, “I’ve always liked being part of a team.”

“You should come by the Birdhouse some time, we’re always on the lookout for new members. Even if you don’t join, we have free coffee, and I’ll make sure they put out the good biscuits if I know you’re coming.”

“The Birdhouse?”

“Headquarters of my activism group. It used to house a small bird rescue centre, but they had to move to a bigger place, but everyone’s always called it the Birdhouse so we kept the name.”

Steve was saved from having to think of another response by Lucky returning, triumphant, with the Frisbee in his mouth. Redwing whined and kept running to either side of him to try and get it back, but Lucky kept his head too high for the small dog to get to. Sam laughed.

“That’s what you get for taking stuff that isn’t yours Reddy.” Sam said. Redwing turned to look at him and raised a paw, making him laugh again, reaching down to ruffle his head. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault you got beat at your own game.”

Steve pointed at the floor and Lucky dropped the Frisbee, sitting down and thumping his tail and Steve rubbed his side in congratulations. He clicked his fingers to get Redwing’s attention, then sent the Frisbee back to the same spot as before.

“I’ve never heard of a dog called Redwing before, what’s that from?” Steve asked.

Sam shook his head with a grin. “Ah, it was a joke with my best friend Riley. When I first got him, his ears looked way too big for him, like Dumbo, so Riley insisted he was a bird in a previous life. Has Lucky got a story behind it?”

“It has, actually,” It was Steve’s turn to grin, “His owner, Clint, spends all his free time doing archery, then when he went to the animal rescue- just to look he said- he got instantly attached to a one eyed dog called Arrow. When he found out the name, Nat says the look on his face was absolutely priceless, and he just picked the first name he could think of that wasn’t archery related.”

Sam laughed, then jumped when The Birdie Song started playing from his pocket. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, then glanced at Steve, embarrassed. 

“This isn’t my usual ringtone, Riley must have changed it without telling me as a prank, I have way better musical taste than this.” Sam defended quickly.

Steve struggled to hold back his smile.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure he did.” Steve teased, and Sam pulled a face in reply, answering the call and turning slightly away.

“Hello? What, you mean right now? I’m walking my dog!” Sam sighed and looked at Steve longingly. “...okay, okay I’ll come get you, just stay put. You tell your girl uncle Sam is flying in to save the day again.” 

“Who was that?” Steve asked, hoping it wasn’t too personal question.

“Riley wants me to take his daughter to school for him because his car broke down. If it was just him I’d tell him to buzz off, but that little girl needs to start learning that I am much cooler than her dad.” Sam chuckled.

Steve laughed too, but it rang false to his ears. He was disappointed that their meeting would be cut short. He didn’t meet many people he felt comfortable with, and Sam had a draw to him. His easy smiles, confidence, humour and kindness made Steve want to spend a lot more time with him. For the first time since Peggy, he felt from the first meeting that this could potentially go somewhere.

“So, will I see you here tomorrow?” Sam prodded gently, clutching the leash in his hand a little tighter.

“It’s a date,” Steve said, then blushed when Sam’s eyebrows went to his hairline. “I mean, my friend Natasha says it all the time and it just slipped out, I didn’t, uh-”

Steve clamped his mouth shut as Sam’s cheeks wrinkled with a huge teasing grin.

“Well since it’s a date-”

“-no-”

“-I’ll make sure to bring plenty of roses-”  
“-Sam-”

“-put Redwing in a little dog Tuxedo-”

“-stop it!” Steve said, but he knew his smile was taking away any effect of his words.

“Hey, I’m just trying to be romantic over here.” Sam said, sticking his tongue out.

“Do you usually find your dates through your dog?”

“No, but then,” Sam paused and slowly looked Steve up and down until Steve blushed even harder, “I got the feeling you’re not a usual kinda guy.”  
Steve was once again saved by the dogs returning. This time Redwing had the Frisbee, running away from Lucky whenever he came to close, which is probably what took them so long.

“Guess this is it then.” Sam says, pulling the Frisbee from Redwing and holding it out to Steve, but stopped. “Actually, is this Frisbee particularly important to you?”

“Not especially, why?”

Sam grinned. He pulled a thick pen out of his pocket and wrote something around the middle of the Frisbee, scrunching up his nose in concentration as he turned it. Redwing watched it intently. When he was done, Sam handed it over.

In a leaning circle, Sam had written a series of numbers, and drawn a little dog with wings.

“Just in case I need a rain check on our date.” Sam said with a wink, then leaned down and attached Redwing’s leash again, defending his face from being licked with one hand. “Alright, alright, you love me, I get it, calm down dog.”

Steve watched him jog away with a wave, then spun around when he was out of sight, hugging the Frisbee tight to his chest with one arm. Lucky was watching him, his one eye fixed on the Frisbee.

“Oh no, I’m not throwing this again, this is mine now.” Steve told him, reaching out and ruffling his head with his free hand. Lucky seemed to understand this and followed as Steve started walking again. 

“And you’re not to tell Bucky or Natasha a word of this, you got that boy?” 

Lucky wagged his tail, which Steve took as a yes, so he passed him a treat.

“Good boy.”


End file.
